talenttalenttalent
I managed to get a sunburn on both kneecaps and my right arm...
and pretty much nowhere else. Probably the result of digging idly through the sand for small rocks to toss at a pile of rocks.
Sunday afternoon. Around tea time, were it not Sunday.
I am writing this lounging naked on a bed, listening to the waves crash against the shore and considering my afternoon.
I spent three hours at the beach this afternoon with Matt, Omar, Mike, Doyle, Samuel, and Beau. Beau and Matt are still together, and that is quite good for them, as they seem to really complement each other. Beau…is still very much Beau, though she has thankfully shifted from being the group drunk (of the girls that hung with us she could put away the most by far) and for lack of a better word village bicycle in the best of all possible ways. We spent most of our time out of the waves just shooting the breeze and watching Matt construct sandcastles. At 23, he has gotten pretty damned good at it. Omar, the second best looking (after Matt, who is man-pretty in an effortless sort of way) spent a good part of his time speculating on various girls who walked by, and we played the game of guessing whether or not they were eighteen. This tends to a wonderful sort of ribaldry, and it really…well, the afternoon shifted from enlightened comments about literature to the bawdiest humor this side of putting Eric, Jed, Knecht, and I in a room and waiting five minutes. All in all it is that kind of easy camaraderie that is rather nice, just enjoying the waves and tossing small rocks at other rocks or piles of rocks ordered in an aesthetically pleasing arrangement. The waves were wonderful. About three to five feet, so perfect for bodysurfing, and the seaweed was not that bad…at first: however, I spent a long time in and after showering simply picking bits of seaweed from everywhere. I caught quite a number in, though I lacked the distance caught by others, this was mostly by choice, as taking waves too far leads to being scraped up on the sand. It was nice to watch Beau, Matt and co. just bounce around in the waves. We eventually went in and wandered the beach until we found a nice place to sit, somewhere where Omar could stare without being noticed (the sunglasses helped too). After awhile they drifted off to surf the point, which I watched them do for awhile and then went back into the waves, which had picked up quite a lot by then.
And then I took quite a long shower to get all the seaweed off. Tonight, I think, calls largely for rest and recuperation after a day spent being knocked around voluntarily.
As my rather guilty pleasure I am reading Naomi Novik's Temeraire series...though I also have 'The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet' (or whatever the title is, to work through...I think I'll save that and Paul Theroux's book on rail travel across Eurasia for the ride back. )
What are some memories that you associate with summer?
Comment and discuss below.
and pretty much nowhere else. Probably the result of digging idly through the sand for small rocks to toss at a pile of rocks.
Sunday afternoon. Around tea time, were it not Sunday.
I am writing this lounging naked on a bed, listening to the waves crash against the shore and considering my afternoon.
I spent three hours at the beach this afternoon with Matt, Omar, Mike, Doyle, Samuel, and Beau. Beau and Matt are still together, and that is quite good for them, as they seem to really complement each other. Beau…is still very much Beau, though she has thankfully shifted from being the group drunk (of the girls that hung with us she could put away the most by far) and for lack of a better word village bicycle in the best of all possible ways. We spent most of our time out of the waves just shooting the breeze and watching Matt construct sandcastles. At 23, he has gotten pretty damned good at it. Omar, the second best looking (after Matt, who is man-pretty in an effortless sort of way) spent a good part of his time speculating on various girls who walked by, and we played the game of guessing whether or not they were eighteen. This tends to a wonderful sort of ribaldry, and it really…well, the afternoon shifted from enlightened comments about literature to the bawdiest humor this side of putting Eric, Jed, Knecht, and I in a room and waiting five minutes. All in all it is that kind of easy camaraderie that is rather nice, just enjoying the waves and tossing small rocks at other rocks or piles of rocks ordered in an aesthetically pleasing arrangement. The waves were wonderful. About three to five feet, so perfect for bodysurfing, and the seaweed was not that bad…at first: however, I spent a long time in and after showering simply picking bits of seaweed from everywhere. I caught quite a number in, though I lacked the distance caught by others, this was mostly by choice, as taking waves too far leads to being scraped up on the sand. It was nice to watch Beau, Matt and co. just bounce around in the waves. We eventually went in and wandered the beach until we found a nice place to sit, somewhere where Omar could stare without being noticed (the sunglasses helped too). After awhile they drifted off to surf the point, which I watched them do for awhile and then went back into the waves, which had picked up quite a lot by then.
And then I took quite a long shower to get all the seaweed off. Tonight, I think, calls largely for rest and recuperation after a day spent being knocked around voluntarily.
As my rather guilty pleasure I am reading Naomi Novik's Temeraire series...though I also have 'The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet' (or whatever the title is, to work through...I think I'll save that and Paul Theroux's book on rail travel across Eurasia for the ride back. )
What are some memories that you associate with summer?
Comment and discuss below.